


Tequila Shots and Darren Woodward (and the Morning After)

by flaming_muse



Category: Sports Night
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all would have turned out differently if Casey hadn't had those last two shots of tequila.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tequila Shots and Darren Woodward (and the Morning After)

**Author's Note:**

> set in s1 after "Thespis"
> 
> originally posted in my LJ on December 3, 2006

"Darren Woodward," Casey said, grabbing onto Natalie's shoulder to keep his footing as they stumbled out onto the sidewalk in front of the bar.

Dana rolled her eyes and fastened her coat against the brisk winter breeze. "Here he goes again."

"Still," Dan told her, bringing up the rear of the group. He squinted as a gust of wind hit him squarely in the face. "It's not again; it's still. You just moved to a different table and left me to hear about it all by myself for the past hour. And thank you so much for that."

"Darren Woodward," Casey said again.

"Yes, Casey," Natalie said with more patience than someone who was supporting a inebriated man a foot taller than she was could really be expected to have. "Darren Woodward."

"NFL quarterback, three time MVP Darren Woodward."

"That's the one," Jeremy said. "Here, Natalie, let me take him."

"I've got him," she replied.

"Let Jeremy take him." Dana raised her arm to try to flag down a cab, which completely ignored her as it drove past.

"I've got him." Natalie's eyes widened as Casey rested his forehead on the top of her head and leaned more heavily on her shoulder. "Um."

" _I'll_ take him," Dan said, removing his hands from his pockets and making his way from the edge of the group over to his friend. "Come on, Casey. I'm sure Natalie would like you better if you weren't trying to crush her like a beer can." He managed to get Casey's free arm around his shoulders and tipped him with a hand around his waist to lean into him. "In fact, that's a tip for all women - don't crush them. I'm telling you that from one friend to another."

"Thanks, Dan," Natalie said as she straightened up. "He _is_ kind of heavy."

"And a lot taller than you," Jeremy added. "The leverage is bad."

"That, too," she agreed.

"Darren Woodward," Casey said to his feet.

"If I find out who ordered him those last two shots of tequila I'm going to make sure you're assigned to the international ping-pong championships this year," Dan warned the group at large as he shifted his grip to get a better hold on Casey. "You know how he gets on tequila."

"I like ping-pong," Elliott said.

"Fine." Dan pointed a finger at him. "If it was you then you _won't_ be covering ping-pong."

Dana turned around from unsuccessfully flagging down another cab. "I'm pretty sure I'm the producer here. Aren't I still the producer?" she asked Natalie.

Natalie nodded. "Yep. You're the producer. Producer extraordinaire." She gave Dana a huge smile. "See how I threw in the extraordinaire?"

"You're still not going to pre-season in sunny, warm, snow-free Florida," Dana said, pulling the collar of her coat more snugly around her neck.

"It was worth a shot."

"It was a very nice try," Jeremy told Natalie, earning a smile of his own.

"Anyway, if I'm the producer," Dana continued, "aren't I the one who gets to threaten people with ping-pong?"

Natalie nodded again. "Yes. That's the producer's right. Running the show, sending favorite underlings to pre-season in sunny Florida, and threatening people with ping-pong."

"That's what I thought," Dana said, then blinked. "I have underlings?"

Dan saw the conversation veering dangerously off track, and Casey was opening his mouth again. "Since you're the producer, Dana, _you_ threaten them with ping-pong for giving Casey tequila."

"That's right. I'm the producer. I get to threaten people." Dana turned with the gravitas that only a drunk person can assume and with only a slight wobble on her high heels. "Elliott, if you gave Casey tequila then you have to play ping-pong."

Elliott shrugged. "Okay with me."

"Darren Woodward?" Casey asked and proceeded to sneeze on the shoulder of Dan's leather jacket.

"Dana." Dan sighed. "Just get us a cab."

Dana turned just in time to see another cab drive past. "Maybe if I take off my coat. It's always easier to get a cab if you're showing some leg."

"It's fifteen degrees Fahrenheit out here not counting the wind chill," Jeremy said. Natalie had wormed her way under his arm, and he looked half terrified and half completely pleased with himself. "Don't take off your coat."

"Frostbite's a bitch," Kim said over her shoulder.

"Besides," Natalie said, "you're wearing pants."

Dana looked down at her legs, which were indeed covered by dark wool slacks. "You're right. I am. I am wearing pants. I guess I could pull them up. Or down."

"Not down," said Natalie.

"Definitely not down," Jeremy agreed.

Casey turned to Elliott. "Do you get what I'm saying? Darren. Woodward."

"Yeah, Casey, I think we've got the gist by now," Dan said.

"I bet Darren Woodward could get a cab," Dana muttered.

Dan shot her a glare. "Don't you start."

"I got one," Kim announced triumphantly as a taxi slowed down beside them.

"And here's another." Jeremy waved his free arm, and the second car pulled in behind the first.

"See, Dana?" Natalie said. "No legs required."

"Hey, I have legs," Jeremy protested.

"And they're very nice, sweetie, but you didn't have to show them to get a cab."

"Fair enough."

Casey stopped staring up at the sky and said, "Okay, but it's _Darren Woodward_."

The rest of the group groaned.

Dan tightened his grip on Casey's waist and tried to ignore just how tightly plastered to him his best friend was getting. He was used to ignoring Casey's physical presence, but it was harder when Casey was pretty much nuzzling his ear. "As much as I'm a firm believer in chivalry and not letting my friends freeze to death on the mean streets of New York, would you guys mind if I took the first cab and got him home before this broken record gets completely scratched?"

"Be our guest," Dana said.

"Darren Woodward?" Casey asked Kim.

" _Please_ ," Natalie said to Dan.

"Thanks, guys. Let's go, Case, before your inability to move on from a subject that was first brought up three hours ago becomes annoying."

"Darren _Woodward_ ," Casey said.

"Yep, that's the subject right there." Dana opened the door for them and helped Dan to ease Casey and his long, uncoordinated limbs inside. She gave Dan a pat on the shoulder as he slid in after him. "See you Monday."

Dan gave the cab driver Casey's address and mouthed "Ping-pong!" in as menacing a fashion as he could manage to his friends through the window as the car pulled away from the curb.

Casey drew in a breath, but Dan interrupted him before he could speak.

"Casey, so help me, if the next words out of your mouth are Darren Woodward I cannot and will not be held responsible for my actions."

Casey shut his mouth.

"Thank you," Dan said. He let out a slow breath and relaxed back into the seat, not nearly as drunk as Casey but buzzed enough from a few beers and the glow of a great show that the lights of New York seemed to dance in time with the sounds of the foreign pop music coming from the driver's stereo.

"The thing is," Casey said after a few minutes, "I just want to be sure that I'm not imagining it."

"You're not imagining it," Dan told him.

"So Darren Woodward - "

Dan cut him off again. "You know, you're saying his name so much that it's losing all meaning." He held up a hand to keep Casey from continuing; Casey's eyes all but crossed as he looked at it, but at least he didn't try to speak. "Yes, famous and talented ex-NFL quarterback Darren Woodward went out tonight to a gala benefit in Los Angeles with his new girlfriend, who it turns out happens to be his new _boyfriend_."

"He's gay," Casey said, like the word didn't make sense on his tongue.

Reminding himself that Casey wasn't homophobic and was in fact just clueless, Dan kept himself from rolling his eyes. "Bisexual."

"But he dated women. Lots of women."

"Hence the term bisexual."

"I had no idea," Casey said.

"About bisexuality?"

"About Darren Woodward."

Dan crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't realize you two were that close."

"We aren't. I've only met him four or five times."

This time Dan did roll his eyes. "And you expected to know something so deeply personal about him from a couple of press meetings and a handshake at a party?"

"Yes," Casey said, shifting in his seat until he was facing Dan.

"Casey, you're my best friend, but that doesn't mean you're not a complete idiot."

"I know, but listen. I've met Darren Woodward. I've met his girlfriends. I've seen him dance. I've seen him in the _locker room_. I've done pieces on him. I've read articles on him. I know a lot about him, and I didn't know."

Feeling suddenly very tired from the whole conversation, Dan sighed and closed his eyes. "All this interest in Darren Woodward's every move. Are you sure _you're_ not gay?"

"No. And that's the thing."

Dan's eyes popped open, his heart suddenly pounding. "What?"

"If Darren Woodward - _Darren Woodward_ \- is gay, how do I know I'm not gay?" Casey asked. "Yeah, okay, I was married, but Darren Woodward had lots of girlfriends."

"Casey - "

"How do I know _you're_ not gay and I just don't know? Or Dana, or Natalie, or... or... Hugh Hefner?"

"I'm pretty sure Hugh Hefner isn't gay," Dan said around the lump in his throat. The beer in his system helped to soften the panic he might otherwise have felt at the turn in the conversation.

"But how do you _know_?"

"You're right," Dan said. "I don't. I don't know if Hugh Hefner is gay. I've never even met Hugh Hefner."

Casey pointed his finger at him. "See?"

"There's a big difference between knowing about yourself and knowing about someone else. If you were gay, you'd know."

"I've never even thought about it," Casey said.

As much as he wanted to smack Casey for being clueless and move onto a new subject, Dan was as gentle as he could be as he said, "Then you aren't."

Casey frowned, his brows drawing together in a contemplative furrow that was usually reserved for trying to understand the arcane rules of cricket. "Or maybe I just never thought about it."

"Casey, it's not a personal philosophy you contemplate in your spare time; it's a physical fact. Either you're attracted to people of the same sex or you aren't. And you aren't."

"You don't know that," Casey said.

"Okay, I don't. I'm not you," Dan replied. "But I've known you a long time, and I'm pretty sure you're a flaming straight person."

Casey looked out of the window, and his response was so low that Dan could barely hear it over the beat of the music. "I'm not. I'm not sure."

Dan's chest tightened, and he couldn't come up with anything to say for a minute. In his heart, he knew it wasn't true, and that was the fact that he kept reminding himself of over and over. "That's just the tequila. You'll be sure in the morning."

"Are _you_ sure?" Casey asked.

"About you?"

"About _you_."

Dan swallowed again and nodded. "Yes."

Casey looked at him for a long moment. "Okay."

The rest of the cab ride passed silently - or silently besides the sounds of the city and the thump-thump of their driver's music - and Casey pulled himself together enough that he was able to pay their fare when they pulled up outside of his building.

"Did you move to my building and not tell me?" he asked Dan as they both slid out of the cab. He peered upward at its stone façade.

"No, but I'd bet good money that you won't be able to find your door if I don't help," Dan said. "Or know what to do with your key if you do."

"You're a good friend, Danny," Casey said, happily letting Dan sling his arm over Dan's shoulder and maneuver him up the sidewalk.

"The best," Dan said.

"The best."

Since Dan both knew where Casey's apartment was and how to use the key to get inside, it didn't take long before Casey was ensconced in one corner of his couch and Dan was bringing them two bottles of water from the kitchen.

"Drink up, my friend, for tomorrow you shall suffer," Dan said, handing Casey one bottle and flopping into the other corner of the couch.

"Are you sure?" Casey asked.

Dan laughed. "I saw you drink the tequila."

"No, I meant about you."

" _I_ didn't have any tequila. I'm not going to suffer."

" _Danny_."

Dan's smile slipped from his lips, and he took a sip of his drink to calm the churning in his stomach. "Yes, Casey, I'm absolutely one hundred percent sure about my sexual orientation."

"You like women," Casey said.

"I do." Dan thought that he would be forever grateful that Casey had phrased the question that way, since he didn't have to lie.

"Yeah," Casey replied, nodding. "Yeah, I know you do. I've seen it."

"And you do, too," Dan told him. "You were married to Lisa, you have a thing for Dana, you check out Kim's legs when you're sure she isn't looking."

"I do not have a thing for Dana."

"Saying it doesn't make true."

Casey glared at him. "I do _not_ have a thing for Dana."

"Repetition doesn't actually help your case, either."

"Okay, maybe there's a little thing. But it's not a _thing_."

Dan took another sip of his water. "Excellent clarification."

"We're getting off track," Casey said.

"No, this is enlightening." It was also a far safer topic.

"I like women, but so does Darren Woodward - "

"You _have_ to stop saying his name," Dan begged.

" - so maybe I like men, too. Maybe I'm bisexual."

"Or maybe you're drunk."

Casey gestured with his bottle. "I _know_ I'm drunk, but maybe I'm drunk _and_ attracted to men. Maybe I just never gave it a chance."

"Casey - "

"No, Dan, maybe I am. Maybe I want to go out with men. Maybe I want to kiss them. Maybe I want to..." Casey trailed off with another vague gesture.

"Do you even know what gay men do?" Dan asked with a smirk.

"Besides decorate?"

Dan reached across the couch and hit Casey on the arm with his bottle. "Don't be a jackass."

Instead of flinching, Casey grabbed Dan's arm and pulled him in, mashing their mouths together. It was never destined to be a good kiss, given the awkwardness of the angle and how very drunk Casey was, and since Dan had frozen at the first touch of Casey's lips and wasn't doing his part at all it was a spectacularly bad one. All Dan could think as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest was that he and Casey were _kissing_ and he wasn't even enjoying it.

After a few long seconds Casey let him go and slumped back against his cushions as Dan pulled himself together and retreated to his own end of the couch.

"Sorry," Casey said.

"Don't worry about it." Dan's voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he cleared his throat. "All set now? Did that answer your questions?"

Casey shook his head. "Not really."

The combination of alcohol, emotion, and the absurd cruelty of the situation hit Dan all at once. "That's what I'm telling you, Casey," he snapped, his voice rising with every sentence. "You'd know. Okay? You'd _know_. Deep in your heart, deep in your gut, you'd _know_. Now stop worrying about it, drink your water, and go to bed!"

Casey stared at him, his eyes wide. "How do you know I'd know?" he asked slowly.

Dan very carefully did not let himself react; he was trained to keep his face straight on camera, and he wasn't too drunk not to be able to keep his expression under control. "Because I'm not stupid."

"Danny..."

"Casey," Dan said in an even tone, "drink your water and go to bed."

"You're my best friend," Casey said after draining about half of his bottle in one obedient gulp. "I don't want to not know something about you."

"You know lots about me. For one, you know that I hate split infinitives, but I'll let that one pass on account of you being totally plastered."

"I'm not _that_ drunk."

"Yes, you are."

Casey grinned for a second and put down his bottle of water. "Yes, I am, but that doesn't negate my point. You can tell me anything, Danny."

Dan held Casey's gaze. "I know I can. And right now I'm telling you that you're straight as an arrow and that you need to go to bed."

Casey looked like he was going to argue, but finally he just picked up his water, finished the rest, and got up unsteadily from the couch. "Okay. You're right. You're right."

"You need some help?" Dan asked, getting to his feet far more easily.

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Any time."

"Sorry about the..."

"Don't worry about it." Dan clapped Casey on the shoulder, made sure he was weaving his way toward his bedroom, and let himself out.

It was almost painfully cold on the street as he tried to flag down a cab, but it gave him something to think about other than that he'd been kissed by his best friend in the world and that he'd been about two seconds away from being asked a question he would have had to answer truthfully even if it cost him their very valuable relationship, so he didn't mind in the slightest.

*

Dan was woken in the not-late-enough morning by an annoying but muffled ringing in his ear, which turned out to be his bedside phone, which he'd apparently buried under his pillow at some point during the night.

"Yeah?" he rasped when he got the handset to his face in the right direction.

"Answer your door."

Dan sat up and blinked at his bedroom door. It was cracked open about six inches, as usual. Nothing unusual seemed to be going on on the other side. "What?"

"Answer your front door," Casey said.

"Where are you?"

" _Outside_ your front door."

Dan frowned and blinked some more. "Then why are you calling me on the phone?"

"Because you didn't answer the doorbell after I leaned on it for a good five minutes and then didn't answer the phone the first two times I called. Get out of bed and answer your front door!" Casey hung up, leaving Dan to stare at the receiver for a few seconds before rolling out of bed and stumbling to the front door of his apartment.

He opened the door to find Casey standing there with a bag in one hand, sunglasses covering his eyes, and a pinched expression on his face. "You're outside my front door," Dan said.

Casey shoved his cell phone in the pocket of his jacket and stomped inside. "And you're Albert Einstein."

"How's your head?" Dan asked, rubbing one hand through his hair and yawning. He wasn't awake enough to do anything but try to play it cool and hope for the best.

"Like a mariachi band took up permanent residence with a troupe of clog dancers. Here." Casey pulled open the paper bag and offered Dan a large cup of coffee. He retrieved another for himself and set the bag on Dan's coffee table before slumping onto the couch.

"Do clog dancers _have_ troupes?" Dan asked.

"The ones in my head do." Casey took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. "God, it hurts."

"You know, Casey, as much as I like you, you didn't actually have to share your hangover with me."

"We have to talk."

Dan took the lid off of his coffee and inhaled its stimulating aroma; he wasn't going to be ready for this conversation at any time of day, but it was definitely going to go worse if he wasn't awake. "It couldn't wait until I woke up naturally? And, I don't know, showered?"

"No."

"Okay." Dan sat down on the chair opposite from Casey and took a large gulp of coffee. Fortunately, it had cooled down enough that it didn't burn his mouth, but it still made him grimace and swallow quickly.

"We have to talk," Casey said again.

"So you said. I read an interesting article yesterday about humpback whales."

Casey looked at him. "Humpback whales."

"Yes, humpback whales. Apparently - "

"Daniel, I did not come over here in the midst of what is either the worst hangover ever or an unexpected outbreak of the bubonic plague to talk about humpback whales."

"Do you want to talk about the bubonic plague?" Dan asked.

"No," Casey said firmly. "I do not want to talk about humpback whales or the bubonic plague or even humpback whales _with_ the bubonic plague. I want to talk about last night."

Dan leaned back in his chair in a careful posture of casual lack of concern. "Why is it that conversations that start with that phrase never end well?"

"Because you are the most annoying person on the planet and you make people want to hit you over the head with a shovel?" Casey suggested.

"No," Dan said, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure that's not it."

Casey set his cup down on the table. "Dan, this is serious." Since he hadn't first looked for a coaster for his cup, Dan was inclined to believe him.

"Okay." Dan took another sip of coffee and put his own cup down. "Talk. Although I humbly request that you try to avoid the words Darren and Woodward either together or in combination."

Casey grimaced; apparently he remembered a good deal of the night before. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"You were fixated. It happens."

"Are you gay?" Casey asked.

Dan blinked, frozen for a second. "Wow. I'd kind of expected you to lead up to that a little."

"I'm hung over, and you've been talking to me about humpback whales. I'm short on subtlety right now."

"To be fair, we never actually got to talk about the whales."

"Answer the question," Casey said, looking directly into Dan's eyes and giving him no place to hide.

Absolutely not squirming, Dan took a shallow breath. "I thought we'd already agreed that I like women," he said, and Casey began to scowl. "But if you're asking me if I like men, too, then I'd have to say yes." He braced himself for Casey's reaction.

Casey didn't respond for a second, and Dan got to experience first-hand how unpleasant it is to be in a difficult conversation with someone who is paid to know how to school his face. "For how long?"

Dan bit back the easy quips and quietly said, "Forever, Casey. I've been bi forever." It was surprisingly anticlimactic to admit it to the one person he'd never wanted to have this conversation with.

"Who knows?" Casey asked, and Dan felt his heart sinking.

"Besides the guys I've dated?" Casey nodded, and Dan said, "I don't know. Some of my college friends. My mom, though I hadn't planned on her walking in on me at the time. I think Natalie."

Casey sat up straighter. "Natalie knows? _Natalie_ knows?"

"I think so. Just from some comments she's made; she's too sharp for her own good." Dan sighed and leaned his head back against the chair's cushion. "Don't worry about it, Casey. She's not going to tell anyone, and I wouldn't jeopardize my career or yours by going out with the kind of guy who'd talk afterwards. I know our demographic. I know our industry. I'm sticking with women these days."

"Because you like them better?"

Dan couldn't throw Casey a life ring filled with lies, no matter how much his friend might be drowning. "Because I'm not stupid," he said, closing his eyes. "And I like them just fine. It's not a big deal."

He heard Casey get up, but he was surprised when Casey's footsteps came closer instead of to his front door and out of the apartment. He opened his eyes to find Casey sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

"It is a big deal," Casey said intently. "It's a very big deal. Why didn't you tell me?"

Dan felt like if he paid close enough attention he could watch his friendship crumbling before his eyes. "Because I didn't want it to _be_ a big deal. I didn't want our friendship to change. I didn't want you to worry if I was checking you out in wardrobe or coming onto you if I touched you. You're my best friend, Casey, you're my partner, and I wanted it to stay that way."

"And you thought if you told me things would change?" Casey asked.

"It happens," Dan said with a shrug, like it wouldn't actually be the most horrible thing that could happen in his world.

Casey looked at him, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Not with me," he said, standing up and starting to pace around the room.

Dan set his own jaw and refused to show his hurt. "Yeah, I can see that. You come and pace in my living room when you're hung over all the time."

"Damn it, Dan, I'm your _friend_! This is _serious_. Would you just stop for a second?"

"You're the one who's pacing."

Casey spun on his heel and glared at him from across the room. "Knock it off!"

Dan spread his hands and fell silent as Casey stared up at the ceiling and did some sort of counting exercise.

"You should have told me," Casey said finally. He walked back over in front of Dan and sat down on the coffee table, his eyes warm, worried, and hurt. There was no anger in them. "You should have _told_ me, Danny."

Dan's throat tightened up, and he nodded. "Yeah, I should have."

"You should have known I wouldn't care. You should have known it wouldn't matter to me."

"I know." Dan looked over Casey's shoulder, because deep down he _had_ known. He just hadn't wanted to talk about it, not with Casey, not when he mattered so much. It was so much easier to have that barrier between them. "I know."

Casey reached out and squeezed Dan's knee, then smacked him on the side of the head.

"Ow!" Dan rubbed his head.

"That was for not telling me," Casey said.

"Way to go with the positive reinforcement."

"I could hit you harder. Make you think better about the first one."

Laughing, Dan held up his hands. "Thank you, but no. Really."

"Okay," Casey said.

"Okay."

They looked at each other for the span of a few breaths during which Dan wondered if his life really hadn't just fallen apart, and then Casey said, "So here's the thing."

Dan tensed but tried not to show it. "There's a thing?"

Casey nodded. "There's a thing."

"Okay," Dan said. "What's the thing?"

"The thing is... The thing is..." Casey got up again and started to walk around the room, this time less angrily. Dan tried to look at that as a good sign.

"The thing is?" Dan prompted.

"The thing is... I think I'm like you and Darren Woodward."

Dan let out his breath in a huge rush. "Casey - "

"No, hear me out," Casey said. "And I know I promised not to say his name, but hear me out."

It was the least Dan could do, as absurd as the idea was. "Okay."

"I didn't grow up thinking about this sort of thing. I never thought that there were options. I dated girls, and I married Lisa, and it just... it never occurred to me that I could have gone a different way."

"And now it's occurred to you."

"Yes."

"And it sounds good."

Casey turned and looked at him. "Yes," he all but whispered.

"Casey, I know that you're scarred by Lisa and are having a hard time with Dana, but - "

"That's not it," Casey said sharply. "I mean, maybe it's part of the reason I'm divorced, but - "

Dan had to cut him off. He sat forward and said, "No, you're divorced because Lisa is a bitter, unhappy woman who has never wanted to take you into consideration." Also, in some part because Casey had chosen to work with Dan five years ago over Lisa's objections, and that thought still made Dan's heart soar.

"All of which may be true, but that doesn't mean that I'm not... like you."

"Bisexual," Dan said.

"Yes."

There was one obvious question to ask. "Are you still drunk?"

"No. Maybe. No." Casey shook his head. "Do you suddenly start being straight when you're drunk?"

"No," Dan said, "but I do stop being an idiot when I'm sober."

Casey smirked. "Yeah, let me be the first to tell you that that's absolutely not true."

"Casey, have you ever seen a guy on the street and thought he was hot like you think women are hot? Have you ever fantasized about kissing another man? Have you ever felt your blood burn for someone who didn't have breasts?"

"I... don't know."

"How can you not know?" Dan demanded, rising from his chair. "It's a yes or no question. I didn't ask you how you think we should stop world hunger or what caused the Russian Revolution; I asked you whether or not you're attracted to men. If you have to think about it that much, you _aren't_."

"Well, when you put it that way the answer is no," Casey said.

Dan nodded, relieved and oddly disappointed all at once. "Exactly."

Casey squared his shoulders. "But when you're not acting like an ass then the answer is yes."

Dan stared at him. "What?"

"I said when you're not acting like an ass - "

"I heard what you said."

"Then why did you make me repeat it?"

"Because - Casey - " Dan wasn't sure his heart was even beating anymore. Was the ringing in his ears what a heart attack felt like?

"I'm not saying... anything. I'm not saying anything, but I'm saying _something_."

"You're not saying anything, but you're saying something," Dan repeated.

Casey nodded. "Yes."

"What does that _mean_?"

"It means that while I still don't understand the popular appeal of Burt Reynolds - "

"It's one of life's greatest mysteries," Dan agreed.

" - when I think about certain people I feel something different. I _know_."

"You know."

"Yes," Casey said.

"About certain people."

"Yes."

"You _know_ about certain people."

"Yes," Casey said again, still standing right where he was.

"And let me just be clear here," Dan said, "because it's still early, and we both still have alcohol in our systems, that certain people in this context means me."

"Yes," Casey said.

"And knowing means..."

"That Darren Woodward and I have more in common than a great respect for a good tight end." Casey said it seriously, but a beat later he grimaced. "Okay, maybe not the best phrase I could have used."

"Casey," Dan said slowly. "Not that I want to argue with you here, but we're partners. We're friends. We're like brothers. There are feelings between us. Natural feelings. Platonic feelings. Filial feelings."

"I didn't stay up half the night thinking about kissing my brother," Casey said. He looked a bit like a lost little boy, but he was holding his ground, and apart from the huge warning bells of fear and uncertainty ringing in his head Dan could not have been prouder.

"You were drunk."

"Not _that_ drunk, Danny." Casey inhaled slowly. "I'm not saying this to put any pressure on you. We're friends, we're partners, and we can stay that way. I just... you obviously went through this a long time ago without me, but this is a big thing and _I_ can't do it without _you_. So here I am. Telling you."

Dan could hardly speak through the huge lump in his throat. "Telling me."

"That I am over my surprise about Darren Woodward, that I still don't understand the appeal of Burt Reynolds, and that I spent half the night thinking about kissing you again."

"Did you come to any conclusions about it?" Dan managed to ask. He was pleased that his voice didn't crack.

Casey searched his eyes and apparently liked what he saw, because the corners of his mouth lifted just a bit. "That it sounded like a pretty damn good idea."

 _Now_ Dan could throw his best friend a life ring, and it felt like the best and the scariest thing in the world. He teetered on the edge of the precipice before admitting, "I've always thought so, too."

Casey's eyes widened, and he took a step closer. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dan felt like the world was moving in slow motion as they closed the distance between them. As Casey took the last step to stand in front of him, Dan put a hand on his shoulder. For the first time he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of muscle and bone beneath the surface as more than just one human being touching another. "Not to sound clichéd, but what we have is too important to throw away on a whim and the remnants of a tequila buzz."

Casey looked very seriously into Dan's eyes. "I _know_ , Danny. Trust me."

Dan swallowed. Trusting Casey was second-nature. "This doesn't mean I'm going to stop calling you a self-centered, self-absorbed jackass when you are one. Which is a lot."

"And that's why I was thinking about kissing _you_ ," Casey said with a smile. "You know me, and I know you. And I _know_."

Dan smiled back at him. "I do, too, Casey," he said, as sure of that as he was of anything. "I do, too."

They leaned in toward each other, their eyes still open and locked on each other, and the second before their mouths would have met, Casey said, "I wonder if we can score an interview with Darren Woodward. We could have a lot to talk about."

"You have to stop saying that name," Dan murmured and did the one thing he knew would be sure to distract him. He kissed Casey, and this time it was wonderful.


End file.
